


look so good i might cry

by tol_sirion



Series: kinktober 2019 [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Face-Fucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 11:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tol_sirion/pseuds/tol_sirion
Summary: “I’m thinking you should show me how much you appreciate it.” Billy tells him, pushing his hands into the pockets of the jacket and cocking his hip. “You don’t get to see me like this more than once, Harrington.”Steve doesn’t really know how he’s supposed to, but he gets to his feet and walks over, reaching out and leaning in for a kiss. Two fingers to his forehead stops him, pushing him back, and Billy’s shaking his head.“Not like that,” he says, and nods down towards the floor.Kinktober day 24: Clothing disparity





	look so good i might cry

**Author's Note:**

> i had the _worst time_ trying to figure out what the word 'disparity' means. english is difficult sometimes, but i thiiiink i figured it out and then i tried to interpret it some way. billy's gross ass took over very quickly.

It’s no secret that Billy and Steve grew up with very different lifestyles. Their upbringing wasn’t similar in any way, and still isn’t. It’s whatever, they don’t talk about it unless Billy is rolling his eyes at Steve’s choice of wear, and every time he mentions anything that has to do with his family owning approximately half of Hawkins. So. Not a lot.

It’s not like Steve wears a lot of clothes around Billy these days anyway.

He is right now though, lying on his back on his bed, legs hanging off the edge. Wearing his khakis and his polos like a preppy bitch, according to Billy. Billy himself is rooting through Steve’s closet. Hadn’t even asked, just rolled out of bed after they made out for a while. Something must have caught his interest. Steve just goes with it, waves a hand at him and says “sure, be my guest” pointedly.

If Billy gets the point, he doesn’t mention it.

Steve’s ignoring him now, staring at the ceiling and licking his lips, wishing they could go back to the making out part because that’s always awesome. Being ditched in his own bed, right when he was wanting to put his hands under Billy’s t-shirt? Not so much.

“Aha!” Billy says suddenly, and Steve sits up, leaning on his elbows. “I knew you had one of these.”

He’s pulling out one of Steve’s suits. Steve squints, remembering shoving it into the dark recesses of his closet after being forced to wear it to some stuffy event a long time ago.

“Okay?” he says, watches Billy move over to the mirror and holding it up, even if it’s got to be heavy as shit, comparing it to his own body. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve always wanted to wear one of these.” Billy replies, looking at him through the mirror. “Feel what it’s like to be on the other side, you know?”

Steve snorts, but Billy actually looks serious, goes back to looking at himself. Steve pushes himself up to sit properly.

“Wait, you mean it?”

“Course I am.” Billy says. He turns around. “It’d fit me, don’t you think?”

Steve… doesn’t think so. Billy is a lot broader than he is, even if the suit jacket has wider shoulders to give him a bigger appearance when he has to wear it. “I dunno. You can try it if you want to?”

“Nice.” Billy grins and drops it on the floor, and part of Steve wants to protest. Just cause he doesn’t like wearing it, doesn’t mean part of him doesn’t cringe watching it fold into a heap on the carpet. When he glances up, Billy’s shucking off his clothes.

“Don’t look.” Billy admonishes.

Steve rolls his eyes but flops back down, covering his eyes with his hands. “Fine, whatever.”

He listens to the sound of Billy changing, huffing and stumbling around, and wonders why he puts up with this. Probably for the same reason Billy puts up with him, but he doesn’t consider that for too long.

“Okay, Harrington, sit up.”

Steve does, keeping his eyes closed until he is so that when he opens them, all he sees is Billy. And he proceeds to stare, mouth dropping open a little.

Sure, the suit doesn’t fit right, too tight in places and too loose in others, leg of his pants a little too long, but. Billy looks good. He’s found a dress shirt too, white. And the jacket does fit right, looks good on him with his broad shoulders and broader chest. Billy looks… good. Different, but very good.

“Well?” Billy asks, giving a little twirl. His ass looks gorgeous in the slacks, and Steve’s mouth waters just a little.

“You look good.” Steve finally says, voice almost cracking in the middle. Billy smirks, knowing, at the sound.

“How good? Good enough to eat?” he teases, and Steve nods rapidly.

“Uh huh.”

“I’m thinking you should show me how much you appreciate it.” Billy tells him, pushing his hands into the pockets of the jacket and cocking his hip. “You don’t get to see me like this more than once, Harrington.”

Steve doesn’t really know how he’s supposed to, but he gets to his feet and walks over, reaching out and leaning in for a kiss. Two fingers to his forehead stops him, pushing him back, and Billy’s shaking his head.

“Not like that,” he says, and nods down towards the floor. It’s subtle, but Steve’s gotten pretty good at reading Billy’s cues. At least when it comes to fucking. Outside of it, Billy’s impossible to solve.

He slips down to his knees, easy, and Billy watches him, tilting his head. “You should undress,” he says, and it’s not really a suggestion. “Wouldn’t want to dirty your pretty boy clothes.”

And Steve doesn’t get what he’s up to, but he strips off his sweater anyway, and the shirt underneath. He fiddles with his belt, glancing up, and Billy nods, so he opens it and pulls it free, then lifts up so he can get his pants and underwear down and out of the way. Then he kneels again, naked, shivering a little because the window is cracked open.

Billy eyes him, a small smile on his lips, and shifts until he can lean comfortably back against the wall.

“Get to work.” he says.

Steve stares at him for a moment, before scooting closer, reaching up and putting his hands on Billy’s thighs. He doesn’t know what Billy expects, exactly, and this is why they really need to learn how to communicate. They just get easily distracted all the time when they try.

He takes it for what it’s worth when Billy doesn’t stop him, sliding his hands up until he can press over the swell of Billy’s cock through the slacks, still soft but firming slowly when Steve rubs over it. He glances up, and Billy’s looking at him, lips parted a little. His tongue flicks out to lick over them when their eyes meet, and Steve looks back down and ducks in, nosing at the ridge of his cock, following it until he can carefully close his mouth over where the tip is.

Billy sighs, soft.

“Good boy.” he rumbles.

Steve goes hot and has to squeeze his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against Billy’s hip as he goes for the zipper, then the button. When he makes to pull the pants down, however, Billy shifts, one hand leaving a pocket to push at him.

“No.” he says firmly and Steve blinks a little at the palm on his face.

He reaches up to push it away, and finally looks up at Billy, trying to ignore the fact that he’s pouting. “What do you want, then?” he’s practically bitching, and Billy grins like all he’s been waiting for is for Steve to ask.

“You can get me off without taking my clothes off,” he says and leans back again. “But try not to get the suit dirty, will you? It’s a bitch to clean.”

As if Billy would know, Steve thinks petulantly. It must show on his face, because Billy tuts at him.

“Get to work.” he repeats and gets a hand in Steve’s hair, pulling until Steve’s face is pressed against his crotch. Steve breathes him in and groans, panting a little because it’s filthy but he also loves it. Billy lets up, petting through his hair instead, and Steve finally reaches a hand into his pants to get a hold of his dick, pulling it up and out.

It looks obscene, hanging out of his open fly like that, and Steve licks his lips. He glances up again, just to be sure, and Billy’s watching him, eyes half-closed but sharp, noticing every movement. Steve leans in, tongue out and pressing up against the underside of Billy’s cock, fingers gripping the base to hold him steady, and Billy seems to sag a little against the wall.

Steve takes it for what it is and closes his mouth around the head, letting spit gather in his mouth to help get it all wet.

“There you go.” Billy mutters, dragging his fingers through Steve’s hair to grip a fistful at the back of his neck. “Show me how bad you want it. Can’t go a fucking day without my cock in your mouth, huh?”

Steve wants to protest, because Billy’s the one who’s on his knees half the time, making promises the other, all _come on, Stevie, suck me good and I’ll make it worth your while, I promise._ Not that Steve really needs a lot of convincing. He had his epiphany sucking dick years ago. If he was the poetic type, he’d say it’s almost like coming home.

He lets Billy guide him, push his head down until Billy’s cock is filling his mouth all up, and Steve moans all muffled and drools around him, eyes squeezed shut. When he glances up, eyes teary-wet, Billy lets his head thump against the wall with a groan. Steve refocuses, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks, slowly pulling off, and Billy curses again and follows, fucking his hips forward and pushing his cock back down Steve’s throat, then back.

Steve lets him, holding still, and Billy yanks him closer. Steve hisses a little at the sting to his scalp, but opens his mouth, slackening his jaw, and lets Billy fuck his mouth like he so clearly wants to.

“Fuck, yes,” Billy grunts, staring down at him. “That’s so hot, shit. Go on, take it.”

It’s not like Steve wants to do anything else. Sucking Billy off feels good and he loves giving everything up for Billy’s pleasure, like that’s all that matters. Could keep Billy’s dick in his mouth for hours just to feel like he’s providing something.

It’s easy, keeping his mouth open and teeth covered and let Billy _use _him. It always gets Billy off fast, and it isn’t long before he’s gasping, cock throbbing as it rubs over Steve’s tongue. He pulls back abruptly, holds Steve still by his hair and jerks himself with his other hand, quick tugs until he groans out loud and hot come streaks over Steve’s face.

Steve keeps his mouth open, but closes his eyes, whimpering at the feeling as it runs down his nose, his cheek, drips over his mouth.

“_Fuck_.” Billy gasps and lets go, slumping back against the wall. Steve sags a little too, slowly blinking his eyes back open to look up at him. Billy looks a mess, sweaty and panting, red-faced, suit all rumpled and his cock still hanging out of the pants, not quite soft yet. Steve must be a mess too, but at least Billy didn’t come in his eye this time.

Billy runs a hand through his hair and then laughs, kind of disbelieving-like, and looks down at Steve, smiling crookedly as he reaches up and swipes at the cum on Steve’s cheek. It’s all autopilot as he holds his thumb to Steve’s mouth, and Steve closes his lips around it and sucks.

“Good,” Billy hums, pleased, and Steve smiles around his finger and takes everything Billy gives him as Billy feeds him the rest of his come gathered on two fingers, sucking them deep into his mouth and gagging a little when Billy pushes them deep into his mouth.

Then he retreats and Steve finally lets himself drop his head against Billy’s hip, biting at him through the material of his pants. His cock is aching between his legs and he reaches a hand down to stroke himself, gasping at the feeling.

Billy gets a grip in his hair again and pulls his head back. “Let me see,” he demands and Steve shifts back, spreading his legs further. Billy hisses and strokes through his hair, and Steve has to look down too.

His cock is an angry red and he’s dripped enough precome on the floor to leave a sizeable wet spot on the carpet. And sure, Steve knows he enjoys giving head more than he probably should, but he’s never really paid much notice to how hard and wet it gets him.

He looks back up and Billy looks like he’s making plans again, a curious expression on his face, but then he shifts his hand to nudge his thumb against Steve’s chin. “Go on. Get yourself off, I wanna see.”

Steve does, stroking himself slowly from base to tip, but he’s gone so long that taking it slow isn’t good enough. It isn’t long until he’s working himself faster, gasping with every stroke, moaning when he rubs his thumb over the head, spreading slick down his cock. He’s gonna come soon, can feel it and it’ll feel so fucking good, finally–

Billy grips his chin suddenly and Steve’s eyes fly open, looking at him, and then Billy’s nudging his leg between Steve’s, the press of his slacks a little rough against him.

“What–” he begins, breathless.

“Get yourself off,” Billy says, all patient-like. “Come on. Rub yourself off on me like a good boy.”

Oh fuck. Steve’s gaze drops down to Billy’s leg. Billy actually wants him to rub off on his own fucking suit. He’s never gonna get the come stains out of it.

But he’s turned on and Billy’s always so good at getting him going, at pulling him along and making every bad idea seem like a good on. His hand falls away from his cock to grip Billy’s hip instead, and then he does it. Humps against Billy’s leg, and Billy shifts a little, slumping further against the wall to change the angle, give him a firmer press, and Steve chokes and moans and is so close to coming he can _taste it_.

He can’t look, has to bury his face against Billy’s stomach, and then Billy shifts, tilts his leg and Steve can feel his shoe press against his balls, sharp.

He comes in a rush, almost sobbing with it, soaks into the slacks until he’s rubbing against soft wet fabric and it feels both good and fucking humiliating.

Billy is carding his fingers through Steve’s hair when he comes back to himself, gentle, and Steve breathes, a shuddering gasp.

“There you are,” Billy says, and he sounds so fucking pleased. Steve can’t look, face burning. “That was perfect, baby. You liked that, huh?”

Steve just nods a little, and Billy makes a noise and grabs for him, pulling him to his feet. Steve leans heavily against him, and Billy tilts his face up by the chin, expression fond, pressing a kiss to his slack mouth. “Thank you, that was fun.”

“You made me ruin my own fuckin’ suit,” Steve grumbles, but it’s hard to be angry when it was fun and Billy is looking at him like that. Billy just gives him another kiss and then walks him over to the bed, making him lie down, and then steps back to wrestle out of the suit.

It’s clinging to him with sweat, and Steve stretches out and watches him, not making an offer to help as Billy curses, head caught in the shirt. Billy resurfaces to glare at him, but his hair is standing every which way and his cock is still hanging out of his pants so he doesn’t make a very threatening picture. He does get out of all his clothes eventually though, and his quick to climb into bed with Steve and wrap around him like an octopus.

“Was it good for you?” Billy asks, rubbing at the back of Steve’s neck, dragging his nails over his nape, and Steve nods, melting a little.

“Uh huh.”

“Kind of wanted to make you wear it so I could ruin you in it,” Billy continues. “Just pull your pants down over your ass and fuck you, you know?”

“Oh my god, stop talking,” Steve groans and smacks at him. “What is with your obsession with my clothes?”

Billy just shrugs and doesn’t really answer other than make a noncommittal sound. Steve is probably never going to find out.

He’ll definitely have to burn that whole suit, though.


End file.
